Dragonfly
by It Slowly Faded Away
Summary: In the year 1979 the British Magical Government implemented the Arachne Program, the magical version of the Black Widow Program. In 1984, Hadrian Potter starts his first day of training. In 2007, they are discovered by SHIELD. In 2012, the Avengers and SHIELD make their move.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

"What can you tell me of the Dragonfly Project, Dr. Chelinstov?" Fury asked in his usually deep voice, calm and relaxed in his environment.

He sat within one of the interrogation rooms of SHIELD, right on the hellicarrier, on a hard, metal chair of soft gray. Across from him in an equally hard and gray chair was a woman with graying blonde hair that was twisted into a top bun. The woman had a pale face, blank and expressionless, and cold blue eyes that dared him to approach, threatening to drown him, and not peacefully either.

The woman, presumably Dr. Chelinstov, smirked at him with her thin, pink lips. "I don't know what you speak of, Agent Fury."

"Director, actually." He corrected her, not dropping his gaze from hers. Her smirk strengthened, stretching a little into something twisted.

"Of course." She obliged, stretching her hands out before her, on top of the table. They didn't go very far though, for surrounding her wrists were two metal bands, linked together. Handcuffs.

"It's funny that you say that because all our files say you were the one to develop the program. Though you gave it a different name."

She didn't twitch, merely rose a delicate eyebrow and quirked her head to the side. "Really? Interesting. And what pray tell do _I_ call it?"

"The Arachne Program."

* * *

 _ **24 Hours Previously**_

"Target is approaching. Your good, Lynx." A cool voice spoke in her ear, barely above a whisper. She ignored it, lifting up her glass and taking a small sip. Swallowing slowly, she gave a tiny nod, knowing they would be watching and see it.

"You look pretty lonely, Miss. Want some company?" A man stood by her table in a black suit that had no tie and a few buttons undone of his collared shirt. He had brown hair and a briefcase in hand. She smiled, jutting her lip out just a little to resemble a slight pout.

"My friends were suppose to return, but I think they're a bit distracted." Here she tipped her head to her left, gesturing. Predictably, he turned his head to see what she saw. Amidst the other dancing bodies on the floor were two blondes, both of a very young age, maybe 16, if that, who were grinding up against not only two older men but each other. Both had open mouthed grins on their faces and a glass in their hands. The man chuckled lowly, shifting his weight to the other foot.

"Looks like it. But there's no need for you to sit here alone," he pointed out, drawing it back to his original question. Smiling slightly, she nodded and gestured with her own glass for him to take a seat, which he did with a wide smile. He placed his briefcase on the table to his right, leaning over it to look at her better. She grinned when she noticed his eyes flicking to her breasts. She had chosen well with the blue dress tonight. She was still getting used to these types of clothes.

"I'm Richard, by the way." He smiled.

"Elizabeth." Her red lips spoke with a grin full of perfect teeth.

They talked for the better part of the next hour, Richard having eventually gained the confidence to slide on over to the seat next to her. Drinks littered the top of their table, most from them, and most of those coming from him. She, herself, had only ordered one and was still nursing it. Didn't want to get drunk, not now.

Leaning in close so that his lips brushed against her ear, he lifted one hand to tuck a strand of dirty blonde hair behind her ear while the other placed itself on her thigh, fingertips creeping underneath her dress.

"Why don't we go to my place? It's not far from here and I'm getting a bit tired of this club, bit loud, yeah?" He breathed into her ear, lips grazing against it. She shivered and nudged her body against his, pressing her breasts against his arm. Looking into his eyes through her eyelashes she shyly bit her lip.

"Okay."

Collecting the black heels that had been shoved off earlier, she made her way out the front door. Her dress was unzipped and she was barefoot, with her shoes in her right hand and a briefcase in the other. Closing the door behind her, she didn't look back. He meant nothing to her, to anyone, now. Just a mere corpse.

Looking around and seeing nothing, she walked down the road, swaying her hips. Pressing the hand with the heels to her ear, she said, "Target has been eliminated. The briefcase has been acquired."

"Excellent job, Lynx. Now get rid of it." A voice, the same as earlier, spoke only seconds later. She didn't care that they had probably been listening for the last two hours. They had taught her everything she knew, what did it matter now?

"Ma'am?" She asked, confused despite herself.

"The mockingjay has sung, Lynx. You know what to do."

A pause.

"Yes ma'am."

* * *

"You know what we want, doctor." Fury said, peering at the woman before him.

Chelinstov just continued to smirk at him, seeming to be amused by the whole situation. "You want what all men want, Director, and unfortunately for you, I can't give it to you. None of us can."

"We have the children. They will speak. You can't play ignorant forever, Dr. Chelinstov."

"What makes you think children know anything of importance? Here of all places? They are children, Nicholas Fury. They are weak and foolish."

Instead of looking deterred, Fury nodded. "They had been but you made sure they weren't anymore, didn't you doctor?"

She merely smirked.

Fury stood up and made to leave, turning his back to the woman. When he made it to the doorway, he paused, door open.

"Just so you know," he tossed over his shoulder, voice flat. "We have Potter."

The hissed curse word in russian that was spat behind him made the man smirk.

 **A/N: I know this is terribly short but I need it to be for my introduction into the story. Picks up next chapter (with length and content!) so stay tuned!**

 **Please review. I want to know if anyone actually wants to read this.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"What did they do to them?" Tony asked, his voice low and quiet for once as he peered through the glass window. The children, on the other side, could not see him but odds are, more than one knew they were there.

"Considering who the mother was, I'd say a hell of a lot." Clint muttered, watching as Bruce and two other doctors (One was a healer, his mind corrected, magical doctor) made their way through the room, passing two little plastic cups full of water and pills to each child. Most of whom were handcuffed.

"We read the files but . . . they don't even look scared." remarked Tony after a minute. Inside, Bruce passed two cups to a little girl with brown pigtail braids. She had wide eyes and a pale face. Only the younger ones seemed bother for not even three feet over was a boy with brown, messy hair, face blank and eyes cold.

"Being scared gets you killed." A voice said from behind the two Avengers and they turned their bodies to look at Natasha. Her face was just as emotionless as the boys, only you could see in her eyes how bothered she was. Clint placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"How ya doing, Nat?"

She gave a dainty shrug. "It's just a mission." Neither of her two companions bought it but they allowed her to continue on. She wouldn't want to focus on it anyway. The past needed to stay where it was but this mission was bringing it awfully close.

"You read the files Fury gave us, both of you did." She continued, her eyes now trained on the children before them as well. "They couldn't afford to be scared. It only ever ended in death. Fear is a weakness, one that must either be eliminated or ignored. If you can't do that, then you have no place here."

They only nodded, each of them lost in their own thoughts, for it was true. They had read the files after all. Even Tony.

* * *

 _ **30 Hours Ago: 5:00 pm. Saturday.**_

"Do I really have to be here? Because I found this really nice-"

"Sit down, Stark." Fury interrupted, sounding (and looking) tired. Tony must have noticed this as well for he did indeed sit with no complaint.

In front of Fury was a semi-round table, a table that had each of the Avengers sitting at it. Starting from his left was Barton, who was leaning back in his chair, arrow in hand and feet propped on the table. Fury secretly hoped he fell. Barton had a somewhat bored expression but if one looked closely enough, and he did, then they could see a glint of curiosity. It wasn't often that they were called in for something as a team, especially with no idea as to what that could be. Beside Barton was Romanoff. She was sitting with her back straight and hands folded on top of the table, face empty of absolutely everything. Besides her was Banner, who seemed to be attempting to disappear in his own chair. He was dressed in loose clothes that were many sizes too big on him but looked, nonetheless, quite comfortable. His satchel was on the table and he looked distinctly unnerved to be here. Fury couldn't fault him on that, all things considered. Then came Rogers, who was sitting at attention, eyes sharp and glued to him. His face was relaxed but empty, the perfect image of a soldier. Fury had hoped that spending time with Stark would lessen that look but alas it seems not. The kid deserved to live a little, perhaps he'd tell Stark to up his game, maybe order Rogers to have a drink or something. He wouldn't ignore a direct order, right? After Rogers came Thor, who he was still somewhat surprised to see. The Asgardian wasn't often here on Earth, or Midgard as the blonde liked to call it, and while he was informed that the man had showed up 72 hours ago, he was still a little shocked. Didn't he have alien things to do? Like help rule a society of other aliens? And last, but definitely not least, was Stark. Stark who wasn't even sitting in his chair anymore but rather grabbing a bowl of candy (which Hill had placed in there 10 minutes ago precisely for this man). Thankfully, after unwrapping one and giving a childish squeak of happiness, Stark returned to the table, where he slouched in his chair and peered at Fury with open curiosity.

"Sir?" Rogers spoke, still looking at him closely. He nodded and began to pass out the files that were in front of him in a stack, sliding one of each to each of them.

"In these files are your new assignment. Today, you will be taking down one of the most secure and dangerous places on this earth. But first, are any of you familiar with the Black Widow program, besides Romanoff obviously?"

He gained each of their attention here as they all straightened up, some looking to their fellow teammate in worry, and stopped fiddling with paper.

"The Black Widow Program? What does that have to do with this?" Barton asked sharply, peering over the table at him as if he were a criminal, as if he was intentionally bringing up "no-no" subjects. Fury sighed.

"As I'm going to assume you all know enough about the Program for me to continue on, I must now tell you of something else. However, what I am about to say is not allowed to leave this room. It is very confidential information, so confidential that there are very few people in the whole world who are aware of it." After getting nods of heads, agreeing to remain silent, he continued. "Many years ago, when SHIELD was still in its prime we had a mission. A mission that involved tracking down three men, all of whom were killers. They had targeted individuals of our government you see and America wanted revenge. We were sent in, to test our usefulness. Imagine our surprise when we tracked them back to England only to find five others also after them. Five others who claimed to also be a government agency, one that had jurisdiction here. When SHIELD returned to the States and informed our commander at the time of these people, we were told the truth.

You see, we are not alone on this planet. We are not all simply ordinary humans, with the few exceptions," he pointedly looked at Steve and Banner here. "Hidden amongst us, clouded in secrecy and illusions, are magic wielders. Wizards. Whole communities of them are spread out across the globe."  
"Wizards." Stark deadpanned. "You mean to tell me magic is real. Anyone else believe this?" He spun around in his chair and looked at the others.

"I know it's true." Rogers spoke, looking at his hands. "We worked with a few when taking down Hydra bases. They were immensely powerful."

"Nat and I worked with some over the years on various cases." Barton shrugged. "Happens often when you work for the government actually."

"Asgard does not have many who wield magic and while I was unaware of the ones here on Midgard, I cannot call myself surprised." spoke Thor, voice as loud as ever.

"Banner?" Stark asked, looking surprised that he seemed to be the only one unaware for a change. Banner held up his hands in the universal sign of innocence, surrender.

"Don't look at me, I was as clueless as you. Though, let's be honest, considering all that we've faced, is it really that surprising?" Here, they all broke out into a mixture of quiet mutters and general signs of agreement.

"So, " Stark began again. "Wizards. What about them?"  
"Well, as with all societies, they have faced their own problems, fought their own wars. One, for example, was fought at the same time as our World War II." He nodded at Rogers. "Their latest conflict though was shortly after, in the 70's and early 80's. It was the bloodiest, most gruesome war that any wizarding society has faced and the countries involved were entirely unprepared, as they were still healing over the last war. Because of this, in 1979, the then Minister of Magic approved what is known as the Dragonfly Project, in other words The Arachne Program." Here, he gestured back to their folders. They all looked back down into the contents, reading and flipping pages as he continued to speak.

"The Dragonfly Project was it's codename, the title that was to be used when speaking of it around people not in the known, which, considering only three known government officials knew about it, was many people. The Arachne Program was essentially a way for the Ministry to have a ready team of fighters at their disposal. It was head by Doctor Alyona Chelinstov, the granddaughter of the same man who created the Black Widow Program. Chelinstov, like her grandfather, had plans for using orphaned magical children and to train them into being super-soldiers. They were to go through several levels of the program, training them in espionage, seduction, assassination, combat, both magical and mundane, hacking, torture, and interrogation. They were given a serum to enhance their abilities, should they survive it, once they completed their seventh level of training. They would also be given a set of potions for a similar reason after completing levels nine and ten respectively. Upon completion of the program, they are sterilized and given their new codenames along with their first major assignment. As of now there are 41 people in this program. 19 of whom are graduates, 2 are supervisors of the program, including Chelinstov, 5 instructors, the 3 government officials in the know, 7 children within their first five years of the program, and 5 who are due to receive the serum and potions. You're job is to infiltrate the facility, which is located beneath the British Ministry of Magic, and rescue and detain as many of them as you can, with the exceptions of the names we have provided for you in the other files. They have special instructions. You will be meeting up with a magical task force in Britain upon arrival. They will be there to assist with the magic, therefore it is your job to establish a plan for when you get inside. The layout plans of the structure are in your files. Good luck." Finished, Fury left the room with his coat flourishing behind him. In his wake, were the Avengers, looking down at their files with mixed faces.

"This isn't going to be good. Is it?" Steve spoke quietly, closing the file in front of him and sliding it over to open up the next one, which was Dr. Chelinstov's file.

"No." Natasha said, speaking for the first time since they had all arrived. "No, it's not."

* * *

Tony, Clint, and Natasha all turned their heads to face the door, which was opening to allow the doctors to leave. First came out the SHIELD doctor, who was talking quietly with the healer, and then came Bruce, who closed the door behind him softly. He looked tired as he ran a hand over his face.

"How bad is it?" Natasha asked, her face falling for the first time to reveal the nervousness and worry she felt about the whole situation.

Bruce shook his head. "Not good. We gave them all the antibiotics we could to ease the pain but they burned through it so quickly that it was like nothing had been given in the first place. A lot of them had bruises and cuts all over their bodies, I don't know how many wounds I wrapped today. Lots of stab wounds. The younger children had burns and were worse off physically. The older ones had less wounds but physiologically? I'm not sure if we can reach them." He admitted, look down at his feet once he finished. Natasha nodded.

"I thought so. They haven't been given the serum yet, or the potions. None of them have been sterilized. We can play on that, chances are they didn't even know that was a part of the program. Not really anyway. They still have a chance."

"Have any of you seen the others? The doctor and Mikhaev that is. And that boy. What's his name?" Tony asked, looking at all of them as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Potter. Harry Potter. Subject Number 1." Clint reminded him.

"Right, him." nodded Tony, turning his back to look at the kids again. "He was

one tough nut to catch."

"Well of course he was," Clint snarked. "He was their first victim. That kid was literally raised there. He knows nothing but that lifestyle. Probably doesn't even know what normal is. We have no chance of cracking him. He won't defect."

"I don't know about that, " Natasha argued, running a finger over her lips as her hand was lifted to her face. "Sometimes, when that's all you know, you crave something different. Besides, there's more to him than Arachne. That much was obvious."

The others nodded and fell back into silence, turning over her words and watching the children that were locked up inside the other room before them.

 **A/N: All of these chapters will be somewhat short as this fic is merely an introduction to this. They're like snapshots. I'm going to post the File that the Avengers got on Arachne as the next chapter for you guys. Well if you want it. So please review if you want it. I was going to post it in this chapter but somehow that didn't happen. Anyway, we learn a bit more about the start of the program and the invasion "next" chapter and the chapter after that is where we get our first real glimpse of Harry. So stay tuned in for that and thanks so far to everyone that's followed/favorited/reviewed.**

 **Please review.**


	3. Interlude

**A/N: Here's the case file SHIELD has on the Arachne Program for anyone that wanted it. The next chapter will be posted in less than two hours.**

* * *

 **Classified**

 **Security: High Security Protocol**

 **Clearance granted by the Board to: Nick Fury, Phil Coulson, Austin Warner (physician on call for case), and the Avengers.**

 _ **Case Dragonfly**_

 **Target:** The Arachne Program of Magical Britain

 **Location:** Britain Underground. London.

 **Completion Deadline:** December 31, 2012

 **Head Figures:** Alyona Chelinstov, Vadim Makhaev, Dolores Umbridge, Cornelius Fudge, Idna Supev, Marcus Warrington, Hadrian Potter, Sarah McKee, and Haley Peters.

 **Orders:** Agents are to either kill all members or detain for information and future extermination by law of the U.S. government by the President himself. The attached files are special cases and are to be handled as listed.

 **Warnings:** Magic is involved in this case. Agents are not to alert the magical community of their presence until necessary. This program is a secret organization within the British Ministry of Magic and one that the British Crown is aware of, as such, discretion is important. No government is friendly over there and the general population, from both fronts, is unaware.

 **Background Information:** For the past 33 years, the British government has been forming a secret program not dissimilar to Russia's Black Widow and Wolf Spider Program. It started in 1979 by the Magical Government of Britain in response to their own war at the time and was headed by Alyona Chelinstov, granddaughter to Professor Grigor Chelinstov, who headed the Black Widow Program. With the help of Undersecretary Vadim Makhaev, Chelinstov was able to implement the program within the catacombs of their Ministry, behind many layers of wards. They officially started training in 1985, after the facility was complete and a short test run was done in 1984. They collected approximately 25 more children, all orphans, and began. The children were put through months and years of training in which they were forced to endure various forms of torture, physical activity that went into overexertion, and weapons mastery. They made the children into a secret army of soldiers, of spies and assassins for the use of the government. It is suspected though that the children are more loyal to Chelinstov than the Ministry. They were taught to obey all commands and act with no mercy. If you didn't make it through the lessons, you died within them as only the strongest survived. There are ten levels that the children must go through to graduate the program, each class beginning with 30 children every five years. Once they reach their seventh level, a serum and number of potions is administered. They are believed to slow down the aging process and increase the human body. Strength is increased, self-healing is prompted and increased above average levels, endurance is enhanced, and a pain tolerance is so far increased that subjects are believed to withstand hours upon hours of continuous, extreme torture. The serum and potion intake is believed to be very painful and has a high casualty rate. Should they survive, the children are prompted to level eight. Once they reach level ten, they graduate from the program and receive their codenames. From there they are put into service of the Ministry and Royal Crown for all the unsavory jobs commonly ignored. All graduates and members of the Arachne Program live within the underground complex, only leaving when missions are assigned. This is for security means and to silence them up, keep them controlled. As of now, there are 41 members of the Program, 19 of whom are graduates, 2 supervisors of the program, 5 instructors, 3 government officials in the know from the magical community, 7 children within their first five years of the program, and 5 who are due to receive the serum and potions.

 **Protocol:** The whole mission will be highly dangerous and all agents are to be prepared for a fight. Agents will be joined by a task force given by the Queen herself as well as a task force given by the Britain Magical Community before entering. The Queen's task force is there to administer all the children to send them back to civilian society, once cleared, and to provide manpower. They are to be trusted as the Queen was unaware of how exactly Arachne worked. Non-magical Britain used the program for surveillance and foot missions in the military. The task force by the British Magical Community is made up of Ministry Auror's (magical detective's) who have discovered the program by accident and have not been detected as of yet, and members of a group from the previous Wizarding Civil War, who have discovered the group with the help of the Auror's. They are here to eliminate the program and its supervisors, including the ministry officials, from their government, as it is extremely illegal in the magical world, more so than in the non-magical world. Trust is to be given as deemed in their case, as spies are possible. Proceed with caution.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 **A/N: Chapter Three as promised. Really short but it's a filler. I don't like it, you probably won't either, but hey. Needs to be there. Next chapter is Harry.**

* * *

"Alright. Review. Tell me what we know." Fury barked as soon as he entered the round table room, where all the Avengers were already seated at.

"Well I can't say they were surprised to see us," began Rogers, slightly in a deadpanned tone. Fury blinked.

"It was more like they were prepared for this, maybe even had a suspicion before hand." Natasha argued, one eyebrow raised pointedly as she looked at Rogers.  
"They knew we were coming. But they didn't know for long." said Bruce with a set face. The others nodded in agreement.

"What happened?" Fury asked, getting slightly annoyed by the lack of real information.

"Well, we met up with the other two teams as instructed, sir. The wizards teleported us to the outside of the Ministry and were able to get us inside, which we then were able to make our way into the catacombs."

"From there," interjected Stark "the wizards waved their sticks and began to make things glow. Took down the wards surrounding the compound, is what they said."

"After the wards were down we were immediately assaulted." Clint said, sounding frustrated as he glared at the table.

"Spells were targeted to take us down. They were aiming to kill, not just injure or knock out. The wizards were thankfully the first wave as we expected this. They got a few of them down but we had numbers on our side as there were only about five guards at the front." Natasha stated, voice neutral as always when giving reports.

"After we got past the guards we were able to make our way into the core of the building, right where the main gym was. It was at that moment that who I suspect to be Chelinstov spoke, warning everyone of an attack. Adults came out of surrounding rooms, wands ready, and children ran. Some to us, others away, presumably for escape." Said Bruce as he ran a hand through his hair tiredly.

"We sent the Brits, the normal ones that is, after the kids while the wand wielders took care of the adults. We went looking for the main targets and apprehended the approaching kids." Stark began only to be interrupted by Clint.

"Yeah, one of them kicked his ass. Pretty little blonde chic. It was quite hilarious."

"Bird brain over there didn't even help, just shot an arrow at some boy. Disgraceful."

"I don't care." Fury glared. They nodded, neither looking apologetic.

"Anyway," Steve interjected before either could start up again "we let Clint and Tony handle the kids with Bruce on standby. Natasha, Thor, and I went after the targets."

"Chelinstov and her stooge, Makhaev, were in a control center, just watching as their compound was being taken. Makhaev looked rightly scared, practically shaking in his boots, while Chelinstov didn't even twitched, merely smirked as we handcuffed her with the bands the Aurors gave us." Natasha said, looking a little bothered.

"Umbridge and Fudge weren't found but the Aurors told us that they knew where they were and would get them their selves, that they were to be tried over there anyway." Steve said next before continuing. "Supev, as well as Peters ("Blonde ninja, Tony!" Clint laughed), was down in the gym area with the others, so we let them handle her. As we were making our way back with Chelinstov and Makhaev, we found Warrington and McKee."

"The brown one tried to use my hammer," Thor put in, not at all interested in contributing to the discussion. Fury suspected that war reports weren't really his thing. He liked to hit and break things, not discuss them. He could understand that, no matter how annoying it was at times.

"Yeah that's nice Thor, anyway," Tony said, waving the Asgardian off, "while they were doing that, Clint and I had managed to take down many of the kids, unfortunately a few of them weren't too keen on being captured and made sure that we wouldn't be able to do so. We lost Peters. Shot herself in the head with a green curse when Clint got her down. We couldn't stop it in time."

"Fortunately, we were able to capture Supev, who, might I add, greatly hates us all. It may or may not have something to do with a freshly given giant scar on her cheek." smirked Clint, looking down fondly at an arrow he was fiddling with in his hands, his bow and arrows still slung across his back. They were all still in their battle gear, save Tony and Bruce of course. Not like Banner had a uniform anyway, he just got remarkably green.

"Back with us, I had Thor watch over Chelinstov and Makhaev while Natasha and I took care of Warrington and McKee. I was going to go for Warrington, but he seemed content with Romanoff so I went after the girl, who took off down an adjacent hall. She was extremely fast as fast, about, if not more than, me. With her head start, I never quite caught up to her. I threw my shield and she dodged it the first time, sending it back with a spell for electricity cast over it. Shocked me pretty good. When I threw it at her a second time, it got her in the legs and she fell but, like Peters, she shot herself, only with a gun that was concealed in her jacket." Steve informed him, looking down regretfully at his hands when he finished. He always hated losing someone, even if it was the bad guy. The loss of life was a heavy one and he felt guilty for being a part of its end.

"Warrington was a strong fighter. Like his friend, he was extremely quick, dodging and countering my hits with ease. We didn't use weapons and fortunately we stayed roughly in the same hall that we met at. When I got him down though he too killed himself. He bit down on one of his teeth, which was presumably a fake one filled with poison. I received no information from him, other than that he was informing a Jackal of what had happened to his friends, Peters and Mckee." uttered Natasha, looking him in the eye.

"We all met back up after that in the gym. However, when we got there there was a new element to the fight, our final target: Potter."

"He came in shortly after Peters went down, he took out a good portion of us within a span of minutes, via magical and mundane means. That kid packed a good punch," Clint reflected, subconsciously rubbing his jaw in thought.

"When Steve, Thor, and Natasha joined us and he saw Chelinstov, he stopped though. Just straightened up and fell to his knees with his hands on his head. He didn't even move when we handcuffed him. We brought Chelinstov, Supev, Potter, and Makhaev on board with us, the children hitching a ride with the Brits, a few going with the Aurors. Makhaev still looked liked he was going to piss himself, Supev looked pissed, more so now, and Chelinstov just smirked, first at Potter then the rest of us. The kid didn't even blink. Just stared at the wall." commented Tony, eyebrows bunched up together a little in confusion, no doubt wondering about the different reactions.

Fury nodded after a minute of thinking, pondering over what they told him. "So what are your observations?"

"They have definitely been trained to a similar way as the Black Widow Program. I saw moves from Warrington and Potter that I haven't seen since my training. But theirs was . . . something more. They were at it longer than I was, that was clear. I have experience but they had familiarity. They grew up with those moves, learned nothing but them, and continued to use them. I dropped a lot of mine later on." Natasha informed them, looking a bit reluctant to share.

"Machaev will definitely be someone to talk to." Bruce spoke up, taking up the silence that had settled after Natasha spoke. "He'll crack easily, if he even needs to be cracked."

"Chelinstov is too confident. She doesn't think we'll find enough to stop her. She knows she's going to jail, but she isn't worried. There's something we're missing here." muttered Tony into his curled fist, looking thoughtful.

"We need to talk to Potter. He's been there the longest, was their first subject, and yet he was the only one out of the first class to not kill himself. There's something off where he's concerned and I can't tell if it's for the good or not." admitted Clint, frowning as he did so.

"Well," Fury began after a moment. The Avengers looked up at him. "Let's talk to the kid then."

 **Please review.**


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Hadrian James Potter. Agent Jackal. Harrison Pryor. Raven. Huston Powell. Aiden Johnson. Alex Baker. You're a man of many names, kid." Fury stated as he walked into the room holding Potter.

The boy in questioned was seated on the bed that had been placed in the far left corner. He had his back against the wall and his eyes trained on Fury and the door. He did not flinch when the door slammed shut behind him.

Fury pulled the chair out from underneath the table that was placed in the center of the room and sat in it, eyes never leaving Potter's. "Look, you're in a lot of trouble here. You killed some agents today, not mine, mind you, but agents nonetheless. We know for a fact that you've been involved in many cases involving assassination and theft as well. I can erase all of that for you though if you just corporate."

The boy blinked at him, saying nothing.

Fury sighed. "You're not going to speak are you?"

He stayed silent.

Fury left, seconds later.

* * *

"I know what you're going through," Natasha began as she took a seat in the chair, trying to appear non threatening and gentle, a kindred spirit if you will.

"You're scared and frustrated. Everything you've ever know is falling apart around you and even though you've been trained for this, you still don't know how to act, how to respond. You're angry because a part of you wants to betray them, wants to acknowledge that what they did was wrong, but you're also angry because you feel like you owe them, that you are suppose to stay loyal, and you _are_ loyal. But you don't have to be. What they did to you, they've done to others, before, and I'm living proof that they are not what's best, they're not always right, you _can_ beat them, Harry."

"Agent Romanoff," the boy began to her surprise, turning his head to stare flatly at her. "I am well aware of your time in the Black Widow Program, we studied it in the beginning after all, and I know you know that, or you wouldn't be in here, so do not presume that you can trick me into confiding within you simply because "you understand"."

She nodded and stood up, making her way to the door.

"Besides," he spoke up once more when she opened the door, causing her to pause "you presume that I have not already made my decision. I know what I am doing, Black Widow. After all, I've been trained for this." He mocked with an unseen smirk.

She left, not looking back.

 **A/N: Short, I know, but again, this story is snapshots, it's probably an introduction (i say probably because I will only continue with a sequel if people want it at the end of this). Harry next chapter as well.**

 **Also, there was a reason that Chelinstov cursed when Fury told her they had Harry, despite the fact that she already knew. Chelinstov believes that he would make a break for it once they got there, that he'd escape because he could and that he was trained to. She cursed because he wasn't supposed to still be there and she knows that isn't a good thing. I'm going to go over this a bit more later.**

 **Please review.**


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

He was cold. He was always cold. The floor beneath his feet was freezing, shooting up his body and making him convulse in shivers. He tried to stop them but found he couldn't. After being here for two weeks you'd think he'd have gotten use to it, but, alas, he had not.

They had come for him on his fourth birthday. He had been in his cupboard at the time, Aunt Petunia having had shoved him in there an hour ago with a slice of bread and plastic cup of water. Spiders were crawling over his hands but he wasn't scared, not anymore. He had grown used to his eight-legged friends. They shared a room together, after all. He had already finished the bread, scarfing it down in hurried tears, afraid that she might come back and take it, having had changed her mind for some reason. He was still nursing the water, wanting to savor it while he could, when they came. He had pressed the plastic rim to his lips, tilting it back slowly and relishing it the wetness that had exploded across his tongue, filling his mouth deliciously. Water may not have a taste to most people but he found it to be the most perfect flavor there was, his favorite indeed. The moment he set the cup down was when he heard a ticking. Little clicks against a hard surface. Then came the knocking. Three sharp knocks against the cold front door that separated this hell from the rest of the world, from freedom. He could hear the footsteps of his aunt as she walked towards it, her cheap, nude colored heels clicking against her hard floors in the kitchen and then softening upon the carpet in the hall. He heard them anyway though, soft little thumps, for he was right there, in his cupboard, hidden in the hall. She had opened the door and voices had muttered, his aunt returning them just as quietly. The next thing he knew, his cupboard door was being opened.

A woman stood there with long blonde hair that she had piled neatly upon her head in a complicated looking updo. She crouched down, meeting him at his level, which made him notice the man behind her. He was older looking, though not by much, with peppered hair and tired eyes and a stern face. Harry flinched upon looking at him. Tall men were scary, especially when they looked so cold.

"Hello, Harry." She spoke, her voice neutral and flat, not quite cold but definitely not warm and welcoming. Still, it was the kindest he could remember anyone speaking to him. Her grey eyes bore into his and his bottom lip twitched.

"Hello."

"My name is Dr. Alyona Chelinstov. I'm here to take you away."

His brow furrowed in confusion. "Take me away?"

She nodded. "That's right, Harry. You're very special you see, and you don't belong here. I want to take you with me, Harry. Back to my home."

"Your home?" Harry, in his childlike brilliance, was confused. This blonde woman showed up out of nowhere, claiming him to be special, when he very well knew that he wasn't, and wanted to take him home with her? What?

The blonde nodded, nonplussed by his questions. "Yes, Harry, to my home. I think you're very special, Harry, and I want to make sure everyone else knows that too. I want to make you even more special. Perfect. Would you like to live with me, Harry? I promise you'll have lots of fun and food."

Perhaps it was the last comment that made him agree or maybe he knew, on some level, that what the Dursley's had done to him was wrong. Maybe he knew he needed to leave. He certainly wanted to. Whatever it was, Harry had shyly nodded back at the doctor that day, sealing his fate forever.

She smiled tightly at him and gave a pleased nod, eyes brighter than before, though still a harsh gray. She stood up and ran her hands over her thighs, smoothing out the black pencil skirt that adorned her thin legs. She adjusted her shirt, a plain white business shirt, and held out her hand. He hesitantly grabbed it, looking down at his feet, at his bed, and stepped out of the cupboard when she gave a tiny tug.

They didn't say goodbye to the Dursley's, who had all been in the kitchen once the woman and the men, who was following behind them silently, had entered. No one greeted them out and the man shut the door behind them. Harry bit his lip as they walked down the steps and across the driveway, the woman's heels clicking against the stone loudly.

"What is it, Harry? I can tell something's bothering you." The doctor asked him, looking down at him.

He stared back up into those all-seeing eyes and felt his heart skip a beat, and not in a good way. Her lips were painted red and her face was sharp, full of angles and bones. She was thin, disturbingly so, and her hand felt chilled wrapped around his. In that moment, Harry swore the woman was death.

He didn't know how right he was.

There were a lot of things bothering him. Like how she came from nowhere. Like how the Dursley's just let them have him. Like how they didn't even say goodbye. Like how his whole life had changed in less than ten minutes. Like how that man was staring at him with both fear and excitement. Like how she looked at him as if he were a dog meant to be trained. But he said none of those, whether it was because he was too scared to and didn't want to know or because he just simply couldn't, he didn't know. Either way, he whispered the only question he felt was needed.

"What am I supposed to call you?"

She smiled then and it was the biggest expression he had seen on her face since he met her and he honestly wished he hadn't asked, that he couldn't see her now, for it was the cruelest thing he had seen. It was dark and cold and twisted and he knew, he knew, she was going to ruin him, that he shouldn't have nodded, that he should walk right back into Number Four because the Dursley's may be awful to him and Number Four may be Hell, but this woman? She was Satan.

"You may call my partner here Sir Makhaev, or just Sir, and I?" Her voice sharpened here, eyes becoming pleased and vindictive. "You may call me mother, Harry."

He never thought to disobey.

But that had been two weeks ago, two weeks when the two people, who he now knew were wizards, wizards like himself , for Harry was indeed a wizard, had come and snatched him from his cupboard.

They brought him to a place underground. He didn't know what was above them, as they had entered through a stone door hidden amongst giant rocks, straight into a passage that lead them here. The place, which they called the Facility, was made of stone and was always cold. He had passed a gym and guard station, where two wizards they called Aurors stood with sticks known as wands in their hands. The gym also looked hard and unforgiving. He supposed it suited his companions. They had brought him into a room that had many beds inside of it, metal beds that were arranged in neat rows. No one else was there. They lead him to the one farthest from the door, saying this was his bed and he would have it for as long as he stayed there. They wouldn't tell him how long that would be. They had pulled back the thin white sheets and moved the pillowcase to show him a pair of handcuffs linked onto one of the metal bars of the headboard, telling him that he would have to sleep with that connected to one of his wrists, keeping him in the bed. They couldn't have him exploring (escaping, his mind whispered traitorously). Bending down, Sir Makhaev had pulled out of thin plastic box that was under the bed and opened it to reveal toiletries and clothing. The clothes consisted of white socks, gray underpants, gray sweatpants and shorts, white and black muscle tees, and a pair of white and black running shoes. There was also some kind of tape in there. This would be all that he would have. Nothing more, nothing less.

He slept there for the first night and every night after, handcuffed to his bed. The following morning, a stern woman with black hair that was pulled into a ponytail behind her head unlocked them and lead him to a dining hall, which had two long table and a smaller table at front. The woman, who he was later told would be known as Madame Supev or Mistress Idna, depending on the lesson, and Makhaev and Mother all sat at the smaller table, leaving him to eat alone at the much larger one.

His first day had been brutal. He had been informed of what the next year would be like for him. He was to be their test run, their first child for their new program. A program for special kids like him. They didn't tell him what made him special, but he would learn later on that it was three things: his magic, his lack of parents, and his supposed destiny. He ran a lot that day, being forced to do mile after mile, even though his body couldn't handle it. They made him go anyway, Madame Supev slapping him across the face should he stop to long or fall. He did pushups and sit ups and squats. Lunges and mountain climbers and weight lifting. He did them for hours, with barely any stops, until it was time for dinner. Lunch had been water and a sandwich. At dinner, he was fed a bigger meal, full of proteins and carbohydrates, though he didn't know those words of course, not yet. Afterwards, Mother had linked her hand with his and lead him to a tall room with white walls and a mirror. She sat him on a table, one like they had at doctor's offices, only her's was in the middle of the room. She sat in a chair before him and explained that he was so brave and so strong, that he was perfect, but that they didn't want to hurt him. That he had a few problems that they needed to be fixed so he could be better, so he could feel better. She handed him little vials and cups of strange liquids that she called potions. One made his eyes burn and itch and he cried but he no longer needed the glasses perched on his nose. Another made his body sing as if it were on fire, screaming in protest. It made him taller. Another burned his arms and legs and other areas too but those parts the most and he bit his tongue because she had glared when he cried and he didn't want to see it again. That one gave him muscles, or at least made it easier for him to gain them until it loosened itself off when he was capable himself. Another made him feel heavy and bloated, stretching his stomach and making him want to vomit, but again, he bit his tongue and forced his lips shut. That one made him healthy, allowing him to eat properly. She injected him with various things, telling him they would make sure he would never get sick, and then sent him on his way with a squeeze of the shoulder. Makhaev walked him to his room and handcuffed him back to his bed, having had waited in the hall outside the door for him to emerge.

He had gone to bed that night with his body aching, both by the forced and too-quick healing and the physical exercises he was forced to. Tears had run down his cheeks and his mind would be plagued by nightmares. Nightmares of Vernon with his beefy hands and Mother with her cold grins.

He wouldn't know that in less than two months he could do everything, and more, that they asked of his body. That he would no longer allow himself to cry.

He wouldn't know that they would break him.

He woke with a start, his head jarring into the wall that he was pressed up against. He looked around, peering through the dark and out the window that looked into his room/cell. Light peeked in, bright light, and he watched for a minute as men and women walked by in suits, some business like other more like catsuits, before running a hand over his tired face.

He hated when he dreamed of the days when he had first arrived at the Facility, when Arachne had first found him. He had been their first, their test subject to prove to the Ministry that the program should continue on as planned. A year later, when he was introduced to Fudge and made to show off what he could do, killing a random muggle they had found in the process, they were approved and given the all clear to continue on. Fudge wanted an army, an army of super enhanced magical children that could and would fight for him. If it started with the Boy-Who-Lived, well . . . . what better child to introduce a golden age of fighters? He had been perfect. The Arachne Program was perfect.

What Fudge didn't know though was that those children were not loyal to him, but Mother. Oh they would fight for him alright, do what he asked, kill who he wanted, but that was only be because Mother asked them to. They would kill for Fudge, but die for her.

Some had, he was reminded, his mind whispering bitterly into his subconscious and he shrugged it off. He didn't want to think about them right now. They had made their choice. Children there died all the time, they were just another body, just another number. He could live with it. He already had.

And so Harry thought about why he was there, why he was still at Shield. Mother had wanted him to make it, had wanted him to get the information somewhere safe, which he had. She had been agreeable with his capture, knowing that if he continued they would kill him, if they could, that is. But he knew that wasn't all of her plan. He was supposed to leave. He was supposed to be out of her and passing on the file, reaching out to the proper contacts, continuing her work and planning her rescue.

But he wasn't.

He was still here.

He could leave. He knew that. He had already reached out with his magic and felt at the wards that covered his room. They were strong, yes, but he was stronger. He could rip them apart with the proper amount of concentration and apparate out of there in minutes.

But he hadn't.

The problem was was that Harry Potter didn't know if he wanted to.

He had spent almost his entire life with Arachne, under their instructors strict tutelage and sharp eyes. He had been the first, the best, the most advanced of the lot. He owed them everything that he knew. But he was reaching his 33rd year of life (though he only looked about 16) and hadn't experienced much of it. He had traveled the world, but never seen it. Had had sex with many people, but never fallen in love. Had been at the top of his classes, but never gone to school. He had done so many things but never really felt any of them. He was a shell of a person, he knew that, but could he even be anything else?

Would Arachne even let him?

He wasn't so sure.

A/N: Okay so a bit more on Harry, excellent. Next chapter is more Harry and Fury.

Please review.


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